From Poets.org, I receive in my email Inbox, every morning, a poem. It’s such a simple thing to subscribe to.
What I know of poets and poetry is scant, and the luxury of these daily deposits is a much greater pleasure than I expected . The poems I receive are sometimes all angles and sharp edges. Some are cryptic and impenetrable to me. Sometimes, they annoy me and I send them to a small, merciless death in my Trash. There are days when a concept or an emotion in one of these poems grabs me by the throat for reasons I cannot explain—perhaps on another day, it would have passed me by—and finds its way into me. Sometimes I know exactly why I do, or don’t, like the poem. In either case, the possibility of such a visceral, immediate response is bracing.
This is the one I was sent this morning. I can share it because it’s part of the public domain. It’s so short! How could it have lifted me so easily? Well, it did.
Perhaps it was the lovely trinity of “time and change and sorrow”: three words to define life itself.
Or the fact that one’s heart is “the entrance-place of wonders”…
It doesn’t matter. It moved me to post it here. Enjoy, and do visit the Poets.org website.
By William Stanley Braithwaite (1904)
I am glad daylong for the gift of song,
For time and change and sorrow;
For the sunset wings and the world-end things
Which hang on the edge of to-morrow.
I am glad for my heart whose gates apart
Are the entrance-place of wonders,
Where dreams come in from the rush and din
Like sheep from the rains and thunders.